


Calms after Storms

by RavenDarkwood



Series: My TMA Hurt/Comfort Week [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, But very late, Fantastic Racism, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, No beta we die like mne, Past Child Abuse, The Magnus Archives Hurt/Comfort Week, also the fantastic racism is in reference to the whole blood purity thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28787250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenDarkwood/pseuds/RavenDarkwood
Summary: Martin just spent two weeks being trapped in an apartment by a cursed woman because he lost his wand. Thankfully Jon has taken him to get a new one.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: My TMA Hurt/Comfort Week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110938
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Calms after Storms

Jon grasped the bright green quill in his fingers, bringing it’s jotting to a sudden halt. Martin’s story had ended, and they were both quiet for a moment. Jon watched as the light from the nearby candles dances over the green cat’s eye gem that adorns the quill.

“You’re wand…” Jon started, but he can’t bring himself to continue. He becomes suddenly much more aware of his own wand, and he shifts his arms so he’s pressing it through his pocket into his side, just to have reassurance that it’s there.

Martin nodded. “Yeah… Well, I can’t imagine that she kept it. Probably snapped it right then and there, after I left the basement.”

Jon forced himself not to wince or grab for his own. “Well, there’s only one thing to do about that then-”

“Look, I know haven’t been the best employee but-”

“We’ll have to go to Ollivander’s before it closes, or else we’ll have to go tomo-... What?” Jon’s eyes snap up from the statement and towards Martin.

Martin, who looked at Jon with a mix of surprise and relief. “ _Oh_.”

Jon blinked a few times, and scowled. “You thought I was going to _fire you_? After you were nearly killed doing a work assignment? Really Martin, you can be so-”

“Look Jon, I’ve had a bit of a… well, two weeks, and I’m not going to do this right now.”

Jon’s jaw snapped shut with an audible teeth clack, and he looks down, nodding more to himself than Martin. “Yes, yes. I apologize, I just… Well, I had hoped that perhaps you had a higher opinion about me, but… Looking back on things I suppose I’m not surprised. I haven’t treated you very kindly.”

“No, you haven’t,” Martin agreed, sounding a bit breathless.

“Yes, well, I apologize.”

Martin’s nods were a bit stilted. “Yeah… Oh, I forgive you Jon. It’s fine, I mean, I know I’m not as good as Sasha and Tim at this whole thing.”

“I’m wouldn’t go that far-”

“Jon, I didn’t work in research, of course I’m not going to be as good as Tim and Sasha.”

Jon opened his mouth, and pressed his lips into a tight line. “Well, let’s shelve this conversation for now, there are more important things to talk about. I need to talk to Elias about using company funds to buy you a new wand.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s-”

“You lost your wand during a work related… incident. It’s only right that work pays for it. I’ll talk to Elias. I’ll meet you by the end of the day.” Jon stood up, and is already crossing the room towards his office door.

“Wait, you can’t promise that the archive is going to pay for it.” Martin stood as well, and held out his hand to catch Jon’s arm, but didn't quite grab him.

“If he doesn’t then I will,” Jon promised, and didn’t leave much room for Martin to do than gape after him as Jon left through his office door.

* * *

It took much less time than Jon assumed to get Elias to agree to the expense. Of course it wasn’t like wands were particularly expensive or anything, but most days it took far longer to get Elias to agree to expenses that were actually useful to the archive. Though, having a wandless Martin would only drag down the productivity of the archive down even further than it already has.

Martin wasn’t in his office when he returned, and was told by Rosie that he had headed out to the Leaky Cauldron. Rosie hadn’t stopped him because, at least according to her, he looked like he needed a good drink.

It was easy to find Martin. It wasn’t like he was particularly hiding. He was just standing about twenty feet or so from the front door of the Leaky Cauldron on the muggle side of things, and his hand was pressed up to his ear.

Despite being a half-blood Jon didn’t actually interact with the muggle world very often. He was raised by his witch grandmother, and spent very little time outside of the wizarding world, so it took him a moment to recognize what Martin was doing was speaking on a cellphone. That would make sense as to why he had to leave. Magic and technology always worked so oddly together, who knows what would happen if Martin were to call in Diagon Alley itself.

A very small part of Jon wanted to walk over to Martin to remind him that they had things to do. Jon wanted very much to get this done and over with, to alleviate some of the guilt that had been sickening his stomach all day, but he wasn’t about to rudely interrupt Martin’s call. Martin had waited for two weeks, Jon could wait a few moments longer.

Besides, it didn't particularly look like Martin was having a pleasant call. He was moving around quite a bit, turning in place and swinging his arms a bit, like he was having an argument, but his mouth was clenched tight, and every time he tried to speak it seemed like the other person on the call would cut him off just as quickly.

Jon wasn’t timing this call, so he had no idea where things started to change. He hadn’t looked away from Martin, and his anxious thoughts about being caught staring were starting to argue that he should before he got caught, when Martin’s form changed.

It was only a moment, but a moment was long enough for Jon to witness the edges of Martin’s body vibrate and distort into darkness, for just a moment.

The moment’s long enough for him to put the pieces together. Jon had only ever heard about Obscurial, as it was thankfully not a very common ailment. Or, at the very least, it’s not heard about very often. It’s not as though most afflicted would be in a position to report it, nor to live to a point where they could actually report it.

Jon searched back through his mind, through his and Martin’s time together at Hogwarts. Despite being in the same year, and in many of the same classes as Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws spent quite a few classes together, Jon never really talked to Martin, nor even considered him very often. There wasn’t anything that Jon could remember that would lead him to think about Martin in a way that wasn’t completely ordinary, except for when he came back from the summer holiday in their sixth year and was suddenly well over six feet tall.

Martin pulled his phone away from his face so quickly that Jon thought he would accidentally throw it across the street. Far more subtly than Jon had expected Martin glanced around, but it seemed that no one had noticed.

And then Martin’s eyes met Jon’s.

Right. He had noticed.

Martin wasn’t quite glaring as he walked over to Jon, but his shoulders were set, and he was leaning his chin up. Jon straightened up in response, and forced himself to meet Martin’s eyes.

He stopped a few feet from Jon, and neither of them spoke for a moment.

“If you had a cellphone why didn’t you call the police?” Jon finally asked.

Martin frowned, drawing his eyebrows in together tightly. “Call muggle police to deal with a cursed woman? Are you mad?”

And really, doesn’t that explain so much about Martin right there. “No, you’re right. That does make sense.” Jon looked away, and tapped his fingers against his leg for a moment. “We should get to Ollivander’s before it closes.”

Martin deflated, and the tense look fled from his face. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.”

To get to Ollivander’s they had to pass the memorial to the Second Wizarding War, which now stood where apparently an ice cream shop once had. It had all the names of those who had died during the conflict inscribed into the surface, along with some basic facts about them and a picture that would appear if you expressed interest in a particular name long enough. Martin had stopped to read through all the names before, and took the time to learn about a history that he didn’t experience, having been raised by a muggle through the conflict.

Martin fought his eyes to make sure he didn’t glance over to the memorial as they walked past it, and tried his best not to remember the two people that were listed under the name _Sims_. Instead he did something even worse, which was glance over at Jon as they passed it.

Jon didn’t even glance towards the memorial, and stayed fixed on the view in front of him. If it wasn’t for Jon pressing his lips into a tight line Martin might have thought he hadn’t even noticed that they had passed it at all.

“I’m surprised you managed to get Elias to agree to this,” Martin finally said after a far too quiet silence.

Jon only made a small grunting noise.

Martin frowned for a moment, and glanced down and away before back at Jon. “It’s just… He hates unnecessary spending, and all that.”

“Your wand isn’t unnecessary.”

“It’s also something that I could afford on my own.” Not easily, he wasn’t paid nearly enough, and the exchange rate of Galleons to pounds often left him a bit more financially unstable then if he was just living in Diagon Alley or something like that.

“Getting your wand paid as an expense was the least I can do… And truthfully Elias seemed far more distracted with other things.”

“Hm. Maybe wedding planning is getting to him.”

Jon blinked a few times and glanced at Martin. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s getting married, isn’t he?”

“Is he?”

“Well… I thought he was? It looks like he’s been wearing an engagement ring recently.”

Still looking a bit baffled Jon shifted his expression forward. “Elias getting married is something I never would have imagined.”

“How do you mean?”

Jon straightened up, squaring his shoulders. “I don’t mean anything against Elias, he just seems…” He paused, and tapped his fingers along his thigh. “Closed off, I suppose? Purely and utterly professional beyond everything else… Um...”

“Well, yes, that’s certainly one way to describe him.”

Jon raised an eyebrow at Martin. “Would you disagree with me?”

“I can’t, and I can’t disagree with Tim describing Elias as ‘boring’ either, because no one really knows Elias. If he wears a shell of professionalism to work or not I can’t really tell, and honestly it puts me off a bit. I’m usually at least semi decent at reading people, but… Not with Elias.”

“Hm. Well, it sounds commendable to me. One should behave professionally at work.”

“Is it? You yourself just said that you were surprised that he’s getting married. When’s the last time you heard about Elias doing something that wasn’t related to work? At least you have friends. To me Elias’ life sounds terribly lonely.” Martin paused for a moment, eyes on the ground, but gave a shrug a moment later. “Then again, he’s engaged, so what do I know?”

Jon doesn’t have a pre planned response to that sort of question, and he’s thankful that he’s saved from having to answer by them finally arriving at Ollivander's.

Martin regarded the front of the store curiously, as if he had never seen it before, but remained quiet as he opened up the door for Jon.

The Mr. Ollivander that stood behind the counter was far younger than the Mr. Ollivander who had helped Jon pick out his first wand, though he had been getting quite old, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise that his son had taken over the shop.

“Oh, Jonathan Sims, right? That’s… Hawthorn wood, with a phoenix feather core, ten inches, unbending. You haven’t been in here in a bit.”

Jon blinked at having his entire wand makeup layed out in front of him. “I see you’ve been studying wands from your father’s time.”

Mr. Ollivander rolled his eyes. “I was practically quizzed on this growing up. Now you,” he said, turning to Martin, who jumped a bit in surprise at being addressed. “I don’t know you. This your first time here?”

“Oh, yeah. I got my wand second hand my first year.”

Jon turned to Martin, blinking in confusion. “Really?”

Martin flushed, and glanced off. “Yeah, I just… never got it replaced? Never saw the point, you know? It worked well enough, and I just never had any spare galleons to get it replaced.”

“Well,” Mr. Ollivander interrupted. “I consider it an honor to give you your first proper, true wand, and you’ll only find the finest wands here. Now, you’re a fairly big fellow…” He said as he looked up and down. “Best start with the longer wands,” he muttered to himself as he marched off into the stacks.

“Does that matter?” Jon asked.

“Sometimes. Taller sometimes get longer wands, shorter people sometimes get shorter ones, though also people with larger personalities or bigger styles of casing magic also attract longer wands, and shorter wands tend towards people with more elegant spell-casting, though really short wands usually indicate something lacking about a person’s character. And all of these are broad strokes, of course, as really it depends on a wand by wand bases, because other factors like the wood, core, and flexibility also contribute to the wand’s attributes.”

Jon frowned, and glanced down at his wand, rolling it over in his hand.

Martin caught him doing this, and shook his head. “Jon, I’m sure he doesn’t mean anything about you.”

“Oh,” called back Ollivander from the stacks. “Yeah I’m talking eight inches and below, sorry Mr. Sims, I didn’t mean to insinuate anything.”

“Yes well,” Jon started as he stuffed his wand away. “I’m not the one that needs a wand, so all of this is irrelevant.”

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself,” Ollivander interrupted as Martin had started to open his mouth, no doubt to argue back. “What was your house at Hogwarts? What was your best subject?”

“Oh, um, Hufflepuff. I really enjoyed potions, but I liked herbology.”

“Herbology and potions, huh? Would you say you’re a woodsy person?” Ollivander asked as he slid a box off of the shelf. 

“Oh, no not really. I’m actually an archival assistant, and before that I was a librarian for about a decade.”

“Oh, alright.” He slid the wand back into place, and half pulled out another box. “Are you any good with other languages?”

“Oh no, not esp-” Martin didn’t have any time to continue before Ollivander slid that box back into place.

“You never answered me about your best subject.”

Martin shrugged and looked off. “I mean, I wouldn’t necessarily say I was good-”

He was interrupted by Ollivander pulling a wand box off of the shelf and marched over to them. “Alright, let’s start with this. Willow, unicorn, twelve inches.” He pulled the wand out of its box and handed it over to Martin.

Martin waved it a bit, and it didn’t explode in his hand, so that was good enough for him. “This’ll work, tha-” Ollivander pulled the wand from his hand before he even had time to finish. He set the wand back in the box, but left it on the desk.

“Would you necessarily say you have a larger personality, Mr. Blackwood?”

“Wait, how did… Well no, I wouldn’t necessarily say that…”

Jon snorted rather loudly from where he was sitting. “Martin, two days ago we got into an argument about how I killed a spider.”

“I wouldn’t call that an argument…”

“You’re right, an argument implies that you ever gave me the chance to respond. You just went on, rather loudly, about the benefits of spiders for our ecosystem for about forty minutes.”

Martin shrugged a bit helplessly. “I just really like spiders, that doesn’t mean I have a big personality. I mean, compare me to Sasha or Tim.”

“I don’t think it’s fair to compare anyone to Sasha or Tim.”

“Well, why not? You do it to me all the time.”

The awkward silence that followed was drawn short by Ollivander. “Maybe a bit longer then,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Tries to repress, but also fails fairly often it seems…”

Martin huffed. “No, it’s not that, I’ve just had a rough way of it lately, and I’m just a bit short right now.”

“I haven’t been doing that, have I?” Jon asked, still stuck on Martin’s dig.

“Well, I mean... sometimes? I know you don’t mean anything by it,” Martin quickly reassured him. “I know you just want employees who can pull their own weight.”

“That doesn’t mean I get to take out my frustrations on you, and if I have been doing that I apologize. I certainly didn’t mean to, but… I will admit I’m not always the best at noticing such things. I’ll try to be better about it in the future.”

Martin blinked at him a few times, and groaned. “I can’t believe this.”

Jon straightened up, squaring his shoulders. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m trying to apologize.”

“No, no I know, and thank you. I just… You’re so nice? Back when I was trapped I would have small fantasies about getting back to the institute and ripping you a new one for not believing the statements, but you’ve just been so nice. I _knew_ you were hiding something under all… well, everything, but I didn’t realize just how much and how kind you are.”

By the end of Martin’s impromptu speech Jon was blushing, shifting in his chair, and not quite meeting Martin’s gaze, and finally just cleared his throat. “Yes, well, thank you. For all that.”

“O-Oh! Sorry, that was-”

“Willow, dragon, fourteen inches, and quite bendy.” Ollivander appeared next to them holding a grey box, and as he pulled it out the forest green sheer material that covered the wand spilled over the sides.

“Are you sure? That’s pretty long, I mean Tim’s is only, what, thirteen?”

“You’re nearly a foot taller than Tim,” Jon reminded him.

“But I’m not, my magic isn’t-”

Martin is interrupted by Ollivander just shoving the wand into his hand.

Warmth spread through Martin’s hand, and instantly he felt calmer. This was it, this was how it was supposed to be, and there was comfort in that. He had what little power he had back, and he could face the world with this wand.

“ _Oh_.”

“Looks like we have a match,” Ollivander announced. “Better late than never.”

Jon stood up, and reached into his coin purse for the galleons that Elias had given him permission to use.

“Jon, you don’t have-”

“Shut up Martin.”

That didn’t leave any room for discussion, and soon they found themselves out the door.

“Well, I best be heading off,” Jon announced as he looked up at the setting sun.

Martin nodded slowly. “I, um. Is there any way for us to expense a night at the _Leaky Cauldron_?”

Jon opened his mouth, but shut it just as quickly. “Right.”

Martin only nodded.

Jon nodded back. “Then you’ll just have to stay with me.”

“Wh- Jon, I can’t-”

“Please? For my own peace of mind, at least?”

Martin hesitated, and took a moment or two before finally nodded.

“Wonderful,” Jon said as he absolutely didn’t allow himself to acknowledge what he had just gotten himself into. “I just live around the corner, so it won’t be far.”

Martin only nodded dumbly and followed him as he started walking.

The silence filled the air. It was getting late, which meant that Diagon Alley was far emptier than usual.

“If you don’t mind me asking why did you buy your first wand second hand?”

“Oh, I took the money I saved and bought a Chocolate Frog.”

That caused Jon to pause in the middle of the street to stare at Martin. “What?”

“It’s just… A chocolate frog was the first thing I ever bought in the wizarding world. I always knew about it, but my mum always kept me away from that sort of thing. When I got accepted into Hogwarts I was given some money to spend on my school supplies. I ended up buying a second hand wand in order to be able to afford a chocolate frog.”

“Hm. Probably not the best decision in the long run.”

“I dunno, it lasted pretty well until two weeks ago.”

Jon glanced down at the street, and shifted. “I’ve… may have been known in my youth to spend far too many Galleons on Chocolate Frogs for their cards.”

“You? Really?”

Jon nodded, his expression playfully grim. “I was trying to collect all the Weird Sisters cards. Never managed it. My grandmother found out how much money I was wasting and put an end to that.”

They fell into silence as they walked.

“I still have some of my old Chocolate Frogs cards. Maybe if Prentiss hasn’t destroyed them I could show you my collection?” Martin offered. “I mean, you know, when I manage to get them back.”

“Ah yes, that’s something that Prentiss is known for; killing people, infecting others, and destroying Chocolate Frog card collections,” Jon snorted.

“You know, that’s not actually an answer.”

Jon glanced over at Martin, the barest hint of a smile on his face. “We’ll see.”

* * *

His apartment was cold and quiet when Elias arrived home, but he knew that Peter rested inside. They had made plans for a simple dinner this evening, with some elements of wedding planning if they weren’t exhausted enough.

Given that the scent of dinner wasn’t there either Elias could guess that they weren’t going to be having dinner either.

He found Peter on the couch with an arm flung over his eyes. He had undone his usual ponytail so his ginger and silver hair spilled over the couch, though Elias knew that from memory. Peter had failed to light any of the candles, and it left the room absolutely pitch black.

Elias drew his silver lime wood wand and touched the tip to one of the candles farthest from the couch, lighting it. He stopped at one, as no doubt Peter had a terrible headache. “I can see your visit with your family went well.”

Peter’s deep sigh was muffled by his forearm. “Sorry about dinner.” He lifted his arm away from his still closed eyes, and folded his hands on his stomach.

“We can have it another night.

“You’re disappointed.”

Elias slid his jacket off of his shoulders and threw it onto one of the chairs. “There’s a difference between being disappointed in a situation and being disappointed in you.”

“Are you sure? It doesn’t feel like a difference,” Peter grumbled.

“That’s your anxiety talking. You should really just-”

“Elias, we've talked about this. My family would disown me if they caught me going to any muggle healers.”

“They’re called doctors, Peter.”

“You-” Peter stopped to huff. He sat up, and eyed Elias wearily. “You need to stop talking like that. Tensions are rising, and we both know where my family falls. I’m already having trouble talking them out of demanding proof for your lie, they don’t need to suspect-”

Elias sat down on the couch with Peter. “Yes, yes I know. I absolutely loathe your family, but their money does make things so convenient.” He went quiet for a moment, and stared coldly into nowhere in particular. “I’ve come too far to become caught up in something as stupid as my blood status.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Are you regretting saying yes?”

Elias rolled his eyes. “Come now Peter, who do you take me for?”

“That wasn’t a yes or a no.”

Elias huffed out, and held out his arms to Peter. “Come here.”

Peter leaned into Elias’ arms, and his weight forced both of them back against the arm of the couch.

Elias ran his fingers gently through Peter’s hair. “I love you, you know that, right?”

Peter snorted, but didn’t move. “Don’t be too nice, it sets me on edge.”

“Now who’s not saying yes or no?”

“Yes yes, fine, I know.”

“Wonderful, now that we have that settled…” Elias paused, thinking for a moment about the dinner that they had planned, but glanced down at his fiancé in his arms. Peter had closed his eyes. “Nevermind. It can wait.”

**Author's Note:**

> Adding this after the fact because I forgot but fuck JK Rowling. As much as I love the wizarding world and its universe I myself am trans (though admittedly of the non-binary flavor so I'm not who's being targeted by her as far as I'm aware) and fully do not support JK Rowling and her terf beliefs.


End file.
